A Different Kind of Soldier
by MysticRyter
Summary: Caroline Evelyn Christensen was always a tomboy, even in her day and age. She always wanted to make a difference, and Dr. Erskine gave her just that. She was able to become a field medic. Now she just needed to cure her breast cancer. Oh, and there's confessing her feelings to Bucky to worry about too...
1. Chapter 1

**If you're just clicking on this, you might want to check out "Project Gemini" first. It'll make for sense later.**

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Chapter 1

Carrie sighed, taking several glances at the clock. It wasn't like Steve to be late, but she knew that he'd show up eventually.

He never wanted to let anyone down.

With the lobby getting a crown from the film that would be starting in a few minutes, picking Steve out of the crowd would be easier, or harder.

She'd find him eventually.

The crowd filed into the theater, and Carrie spotted Steve just walking into the lobby, staring at a piece of paper.

"Rejected again, huh?" Carrie asked softly.

Steve nodded.

"Well, then it's their loss," she said, taking off her black trench coat. "After all, muscles aren't the only kind of strength, right?"

"Yeah," he said dejectedly.

Carrie was hoping that watching a rerun of _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_ would take his mind off of enlistment, even if it was only for ten minutes.

The advertisement that started playing didn't really help her in her cause.

"Hey! Start the cartoon already!"

Neither did that guy either.

"Hey, you want to shut up?" Steve retorted.

The guy stood up and glared down at Steve and Carrie. Steve gulped and shrank back in his seat. As the jerk dragged Steve out of the theater by the collar, Carrie sighed and slipped on her trench coat.

Her instincts told her that Steve was getting the stuffing beat out of him in the alley.

They weren't wrong.

As Steve snatched a trash can lid off its bin, Carrie cleared her throat. As the jerk kept knocking Steve around, his trash can shield flew out of his hands, and down to Carrie's feet.

Gracefully, she picked it up and threw it, flicking her wrist. It hit its mark, bouncing off the back of the bully's head.

With bared teeth and clenched fists, the bully spun around, and Carrie got a clear look of his features.

His curly honey-hued hair, chiseled face, and other features defined him as handsome in almost any other situation except now. Carrie felt his pitch-black beady rodent eyes rake over her form.

Carrie raised an eyebrow as she saw them linger over certain _parts_ before returning to her eyes.

The bully/pervert (Carrie couldn't really decide—or care any less) walked towards her, arms spread wide.

"Shouldn't you be in the kitchen?" He drawled. "Of course you could—"

"A woman is more likely to be in your kitchen than in your bedroom." Carrie snapped.

The pervert stopped in front of her, and before she knew it, she felt the back of her neck tingle, and she sidestepped a backhand.

Her assailant had used so much force in his attack, so when it didn't make contact, he spun into someone else's block.

Finishing bold, blond and bullying off with a punch to the face and a kick below the belt, Bucky Barnes turned to Steve.

"You know," he began. "Sometimes I think you like getting punched."

Steve wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I had him on the ropes."

"And Carrie was about to cut them." Bucky picked up Steve's enlistment form. "Again? And Jersey, seriously?"

Steve looked up at Bucky in his formal Army uniform. "You got your orders?"

Bucky nodded. "Sergeant James Barnes, the one-oh-seventh. Shipping out to England the first thing tomorrow."

Carries throat felt tight. She swallowed. Bucky turned to Carrie and smiled.

"How's it been?" He asked.

Carrie shrugged. "Fine," she replied, maybe a tad _too_ breathlessly.

"That's always good." He said. He turned to Steve. "You're coming with me."

"Where are we going?"

He handed Steve a newspaper headlined STARK EXPO.

"You coming Carrie?" Bucky asked.

"You guys go without me," she answered. "I've got something I need to do."

"Okay," he replied, sounding disappointed. _No,_ he was just exhausted. "Just . . . stay safe. Remember what happened to the last guy that hit on you?"

Carrie grinned. "I never forget."

Carrie got to the town home she and Steve shared, since Bucky would be overseas. Maybe for a long time. Or maybe he wouldn't come back.

Carrie shook her head. She couldn't think like that now.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She had a small section of her strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail, the rest loose in front of it. Carrie decided to keep her evergreen dress on, as well as her black boots. She hung her trench coat on the coat rack, and opted for a tan leather jacket instead. She slung a small matching messenger bag on her right shoulder, and let it hang on her opposite side. She grabbed a pile of papers at the counter.

With any luck, she could make a difference tonight.

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**HEY GUYZ. Thanks for hanging with me. Bye.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Anonymos: Thank you! **

**Guest: I know its a little short, but the future chapters shoulder be a little longer. And thanks!**

**My new goal is five reviews!**

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Chapter 2

After successfully hailing a taxi, Carrie was relieved that she arrive at the Expo the crowd began filing in full force.

She began walking around, looking at displays, and exhibits, getting her bearings straight. Some of them were real interesting, like a device that could suck up dust without a dustpan.

Eventually, after minutes of wandering for a destination she had no idea how to get to. She found the enlistment center; a large one for soldiers, and a smaller conjoined one for nurses.

They were both closed.

The signs hung on nails bolted on the door said that it would be open in an hour, which would be after Howard Stark's grand exposé.

Unfortunately, that meant having to avoid Bucky and Steve on their double dates for a whole _sixty minutes_.

Buying a small bag of peanuts, Carrie tucked her papers away in her bag and made her way to the stage. She spotted a brunette pull Bucky by his arm in the same direction, with a blonde on her heels and Steve trailing behind her. Carrie figured she was far enough to be out of earshot and sight, but she was proven wrong when Bucky slowly slipped his hat towards her.

She smirked at him and quirked an eyebrow.

Orchestral music kicked in, and five scantily clad girls walked onstage. Behind them, a red car shone brilliantly in the spotlight.

Carrie wasn't impressed. A bunch of girls and a car? That seemed a _lot_ like something the inventive genius Howard Stark, would do to make a grand entrance. But still, Carrie was hoping for prototypes and ideas.

When the man behind the Expo stepped on the stage. When he cleared his throat, the sound echoed through the microphone, a hushed silence fell on the crowd. As the stage hands slinked off, the tallest stayed, walked over, and pecked Howard on the lips.

The crowd roared. Carrie rolled her eyes.

Howard grinned boyishly, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. Before addressing the crowd, he hastily stuffed into his blazing pocket.

"Thanks Mandy," He turned to the back to the crowd. Leaning on the presenter's podium, Carrie noticed that there were an assortment of buttons and a lever. Interest piqued, Carrie finished her peanuts.

She glanced at Steve, who offered peanuts to his date. Well, _tried_ to. The girl scoffed and rolled her eyes before returning her attention to Howard Stark.

It broke Carrie's heart. If she were younger, she would've served several mud pies to her face. Unfortunately, society regarded Carrie a lady, not caring whether she considered herself as one.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Howard Stark's voice boomed from the speakers. "What if I told you that in a few short years, your automobile won't even have to touch the ground?"

Slowly, Stark pushed the lever up. Now Carrie noticed that when the stagehands took off the wheels, silver plate-like _things_ were uncovered. They had openings on the bottom, which were now breathing fire. And it made the car rise up, about two feet off the ground.

Carrie's eyebrows rose to her hairline.

"With Stark Industries gravitic reversion technology, you'll be able to do just that."

"Holy cow!" Bucky exclaimed softly.

Of, that was when the "gravitic reversers" sputtered and sparked, losing fuel quickly. Noisily, the car dropped to the ground.

Stark gave a nervous laugh. "I did say in a few years, didn't I?"

The audience cheered and whistled loudly. Turning around, Carrie saw Steve making his way towards the enlistment center. She figured she might as well do the same, since both opened at similar times.

She presented her files to the clerk, who took them and told her to wait. While she waited, she heard two people arguing in the neighboring enlistment center arguing.

"You really gonna to this again?"

"It's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."

"As who? Steve from Ohio? They'll catch you. Worse, they'll actually take you."

Carrie sighed. _I knew it._

"Look, I know you don't think I can do this."

"This isn't a back alley Steve, it's a war!"

"I know it's a war. You don't have to tell me."

"Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs."

"What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal—"

"Yes!"

"—In my little red wagon?"

"Why not?"

"I'm not gonna sit in a factory Bucky. Bucky, come on!"

She heard Bucky scoff.

"There are men laying down their lives. I've got no right to do any less than them. This isn't about me."

"Right. 'Cause you got nothing to prove." He paused. "Just don't do anything stupid till I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

"You're a punk."

"Jerk." Steve returned. Carrie heard another pause, and knew that they were hugging each other good-bye.

"Have you seen Carrie?" Bucky asked.

"No. I don't think she's here."

"Really? I saw her earlier."

"Maybe she left. She did say she had something to do."

Bucky shrugged and turned on his heel. Just before he was out of earshot, Steve called out.

"Don't win the war till I get there!"

Bucky gave him a crisp salute, and walked until he was out of Carrie's sight.

Carrie relaxed and sighed; she didn't know she was tense, or that she was holding her breath.

The bell attached to the door jingled, and Carrie saw someone clad in brown sit next to her. Massaging her temples, Carrie sighed in frustration.

"Couldn't get rid of you that easily, could I?" Carrie muttered.

"Aw, c'mon Carrie," Bucky pouted. "Have a heart. Today's my last day."

"I am," she replied. "I couldn't interrupt your—" she glanced her shoulder. "—_date_."

Bucky sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

Carrie grimaced. "Do you have _any idea_ how hard it was for me to get that medical degree? I might as well put it to good use."

"You're not the only one who caught the enlistment bug."

"Are you trying to stop me?"

"_Stall_ you," Bucky corrected. "And say good-bye."

"Whatever you say, Sarge."

After giving Carrie's shoulder another squeeze, he stood up. Giving Bucky a two-fingered salute, she sadly watched him as he sadly led the two dates to the club.

After a few minutes, a man with glasses, a receding hairline, and a couple of days worth of a beard stepped into the room. The clerk handed him the files and left. Carrie noticed that Steve had followed the man in, sneaking an occasional glance over his shoulder at her.

The man spoke with a German accent.

"Miss Christensen, I would like to have a word with you."

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**So yeah. That's chappie 2 with Bucky/Carrie fluffiness! Don't forget to review and please vote on my poll if you haven already! And I found a song that fits Colby Roland/Rogers (from my first story in my Avengers arc, Project Gemini) almost perfectly. Its called Unbreakable by Fireflight. Search it on youtube!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry 'bout the late update. I'm swamped with homework. So let me take the time now to thank all of you guys for reading and reviewing.**

**guest: Sorry you had to wait awhile!**

**Ali: Looks like you jinxed it, hehe. lol **

**guest: Don't worry I'll try to find the time to!**

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Chapter 3

"Um, of course," Carrie said shakily. "What for?"

"Your qualifications." The man flattened her files on the countertop, studying them.

"Who are you?" Carrie asked.

"Dr. Abraham Erskine of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. And you have some _interesting_ qualifications. Several degrees in varying medical fields . . . how is your aim?"

"Come again, sir?"

He handed Carrie a pistol—military grade—and led both her and Steve outside. Steve looked curious, maybe a little anxious. Carrie guessed that it was probably because that they were behind the enlistment center. Not a back alley, but close enough.

"See that weather vane?" Dr. Erskine asked. He pointed to a brass rooster facing east. It was on the roof of the enlistment center.

In one quick movement, Carrie raised her pistol. A bullet zinged through the weather vane, making it creak and swirl lazily.

"Very good." Dr. Erskine held up a card—the Ace of Hearts. He tossed it in the air and stepped back.

As several gunshots fired, the card writhed in the air, jerking madly.

_Click, click, click._ When her pistol ran out of bullets, Carrie lowered the weapon to her side. The card fluttered to the ground.

Dr. Erskine carefully picked it up and laid it delicately on his hand. If you said it was fragile, that would've made a serious understatement.

It was absolutely mangled.

Many of the bullets hit close to the center, with many others clipping the sides. What was a card fit for a house was scrap.

Carrie and Steve followed Dr. Erskine in as he tossed the card in the trashcan. He handed Carrie her file.

In the next couple of days, Carrie wore black pants and a long sleeved black vest over a gray shirt. She had her black med pack with a red cross slung like her messenger bag. She had brown leather pouches on her belt. Her black pants were tucked into boots of equal color combat boots.

Carrie had come several days earlier to train. And in those few days, Carrie had basic knowledge of numerous forms of martial arts and languages.

Carrie and her mentor stepped out of their Jeep, and Carrie surveyed the faces of the unit she had been assigned to. She gave a small smile in Steve's direction.

"Gentleman, I'm Agent Carter," her mentor introduced herself. "I supervise all operations of this division. This is your field medic." She gestured to Carrie. "If any of you get injured, she may—or may not— tend to your wounds."

Agent Carter glanced at a few recruits pointedly.

One of them spoke up. "What's with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the US Army."

Carrie straightened. That voice!

"What's your name, soldier?" Agent Carter demanded.

"Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty." Now Carrie recognized that drawl.

"Step forward, Hodge."

He stepped forward.

"Put your right foot forward."

"Are we gonna wrassle? 'Cause I got a few moves I know you'll like."

He winked.

Agent Carter drew back, and socked him across the face. Carrie and the other recruits smirked and laughed. Hodge fell to the ground screaming.

Colonel Phillips heard the commotion and came over. "Get you ass out of that dirt and don't speak till spoken to."

Hodge scrambled up. "Yes sir!"  
Carrie's smirk widened when it came out loud, but also with a hint of apprehension. She noticed that Hodge boldly kept sneaking glances at Agent Carter and Carrie.

Carter caught him once, and gave him a shrewd glare.

Hodge stood with a straighter back, and an equally straighter gaze.

"General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to wind this war because we have the best . . ." his gaze landed on Steve, " . . . men.

"And because they're gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds of the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man.

"At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldier. And they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell."

Throughout the week, Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter, and Carrie watched and gauged Steve and the other recruits on their performance.

Hodge, (or as Carrie called him, The Stick Up Everyone's Ass, or just Stick for short) passed every single test at Steve's expense.

Like when the recruits scaled the rope net, Steve actually made good time. Well, he did, until his rhythm got out of whack by Stick shaking the net. He used Steve as a stepping-stone.

The next day, the recruits crawled under barbed wire with rifles in their hands. Stick made a point to race to the end, kicking one of the posts holding the barbed wire in Steve's lane down.

"Rogers!" The drill sergeant yelled. "Get that rifle outta that mud!"

He helped raise the barbed wire so Steve could finish anyway.

Stick went up to Carrie and asked her to tend to his "cut."

"You're a man," Carrie replied in a clipped tone. "Aren't you? Take it like one."

Several days after that, Carrie was sure Steve's asthma would kick in; the recruits would have to run several miles.

The drill sergeant ordered them to stop. As Steve took his time to catch his breath, the drill sergeant issued the recruits a challenge.

"See that flag?" He asked as Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter, and Carrie pulled up in a Jeep. "That marks the halfway point. The person who gets that flag gets a ride back with Medic Christensen and Agent Carter."

Almost immediately, every recruit (except one) scrambled to get to be the first up the flagpole. Carrie stifled a laugh; the metal was already slick from the morning dew. The recruits were pulling each other down and using them as steps. It was ridiculous.

As the drill sergeant watched the recruits, he called out, almost gleefully, "That's it! Fall in!"

All the recruits tousled about trying to get back into their positions, except for one straggler. "Roger! I said _fall in!_"

Carrie turned around, and couldn't help but grin, and so Agent Carter.

Steve had walked over to the flagpole, causing some snickers from the others. He removed the two support braces, and the flagpole _clanged_ to the ground. Casually, Steve snagged the flag off its string and handed it to a stunned drill sergeant.

"Thank you sir," Steve said, still panting from the run. He climbed in next to Carrie. He tipped his helmet towards Agent Carter, who was looking at him. "Agent Carter."

Carrie could've sworn she smiled as they drove back to the barracks.

One the final day, Agent Carter supervised the recruits while they were performing basic push-ups. Meanwhile, Carrie, Dr. Erskine, and Colonel Phillips were discussing who would be picked for the experiment (although one could say the Doctor and Colonel were debating the matter; Carrie was just standing there awkwardly.)

"You're not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?" Colonel Philips demanded.

"I am more than just thinking about it." Dr. Erskine replied. "He is the clear choice."

"When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I thought, What the hell? Maybe he'll be useful to you, like a gerbil. Stick a needle in that kid's arm, and its gonna go right through him."

Colonel Phillips glanced at Steve, and Carrie looked in the same direction.

"Look at that. He's making me cry."

"I am looking for qualities beyond the physical." Dr. Erskine insisted.

"Do you know how long it took me to set up this project?"

"Yes, I know."

"And all that groveling I had to do for Senator What's-His-Name,"

"I know. I am well aware of your efforts."

"Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's strong, he obeys orders. He's a soldier."

"He's a bully."

"You don't win wars with niceness, Doctor." Colonel Phillips grabbed a hand grenade and yanked the tab out with his teeth. "You win wars with guts."

He tossed it at the recruits. "Grenade!"

What happened next is what amazed Carrie. As all the recruits practically ran into each other to find adequate cover, Steve dove on top of the grenade. As Agent Carter tried to approach him, Steve waved his hands to keep her at bay.

After a few seconds passed, Steve tensed, waiting for the moment the grenade would go off.

Nothing happened.

Carrie glanced around, and saw that Stick was cowering behind a Jeep. Dazed, Steve slowly sat up.

"Is this a test?" Steve asked.

Dr. Erskine looked at Colonel Phillips pointedly.

"He's still skinny." The colonel grumbled before walking off.

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**So, your thoughts? You guys think Carrie is too Mary Sue? Should I change her, or keep her the same?**

**And for those of you who read Project Gemini, I have a roleplaying/ask blog. Its www. askcolbyandbryan . . Just remove the spaces. :D  
Feel free to just ask stuff...or it you want to roleplay, be my guest! :D**

**If you haven't read Project Gemini, I suggest you read it. It'll make sense for the sequel later to come. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Y'all are gonna kill me for not updating in three weeks, but I hope you had a Happy New Year and happy holidays! *bad poker face***

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Chapter 4

Posing as a civilian, Carrie wore her usual ensemble, the same one she wore when she applied to be a nurse, and was approved to be a field medic instead.

She was overjoyed.

At the current moment, Carrie was sitting in the passenger's seat of a taxi. Surprisingly, Steve was engaged in a competent conversation with the opposite gender, i.e., Agent Carter.

"I know this neighborhood," Steve said, looking around.

Carrie glanced out the window, a spark of recognition in her eyes.

"I got beat up in that alley," Steve continued. "And that parking lot. And behind that diner."

Agent Carter turned to Steve with a concerned look on her face. "Did you have something against running away?"

"You start running, they'll never let you stop. You stand up, push back. Can't say no forever, right?"

"I know a little of what that's like." Agent Carter said. "To have every door shut in your face."

Carrie silently agreed.

"I guess I just don't see why you'd wanna join the Army if you're a beautiful dame." Agent Carter looked at Steve quickly not really angry or upset. Just surprised. The same time Carrie turned around in her seat, giving Steve a _Really?_ kind of look. "Or beautiful . . . a woman. An agent, not a dame!" Steve shook his head, exasperated with himself. "You are beautiful, but—"

"You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" Agent Carter asked.

"This is the longest conversation I've had with one," Steve admitted. "Well, besides Carrie. Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on."

"You and Carrie?" Agent Carter asked.

"No, no! It's not like that!" Steve said quickly, at the same time Carrie exclaimed, "We're like siblings!"

"Oh," Agent Carter said, sounding . . . relieved? "Surely you must have danced?"

Steve shook his head. "Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying. And the past few years just didn't seems to matter that much. Figured I'd wait."

"For what?"

Carrie knew the answer to this one.

"The right partner." Steve answered.

As the taxi pulled up to a Brooklyn antique store, Carrie thanked the driver, and told him not to wait. They didn't need a civilian involved.

Steve, always the gentleman, opened the door and stepped aside, allowing the women to enter the store first.

Carrie registered the door shutting, its bell jingling. She surveyed the furniture.

_Musty. Metallic smell._ Carrie thought. _Hey, that looks like Bobby's clock!_

An elderly woman emerged from the back room. She smiled.

"Lovely day today." She stated casually.

"Yes," Agent Carter replied. "But I always carry an umbrella."

The elderly smiled again. She moved behind the counter, shifting her weight to her right-hand side. Carrie guessed that she was flipping a switch or hitting a button. Two shelves split apart and opened outward. The old woman quickly ushered the trio inside, closing the door behind them.

The tunnels were concrete and well lit. Several military security guards were on the prowl. A female clerk sat at a wooden desk. Behind her were two other field medics that Carrie recalled seeing at the Super Soldier Program boot camp. They snapped to attention and opened the door. Carrie caught eye contact with one of them; he gave Carrie a nod of respect.

As the doors closed behind them, Steve gazed down the balcony. As the doors closed behind them, Steve gazed down the balcony. As the personnel became aware of his presence, they froze to stare up at him. Steve coughed awkwardly and turned away as Agent Carter led him to the capsule at the lower level.

"Ready?" Dr. Erskine asked.

"As I'll ever be." Steve replied.

"Good. Steven, please place your shirt, your tie, and your cap on the tray please."

As he did, Dr. Erskine cleared his throat, getting the attention of Carrie and Agent Carter. Somewhat awkwardly, he jerked his head in the direction of the spectators' area, shielded with a Plexiglas window.

With an "Of course," from Agent Carter and an "Oh, right," from Carrie, the two women made their way upstairs. While Agent Carter took a seat, Carrie stayed standing.

Carrie flinched as the speakers popped.

"Is this on?" Dr. Erskine asked into the microphone. Several people grumbled their affirmative, and Carrie gave a thumbs up. "Ladies and gentleman, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step towards peace. We begin with a series of microinjections in the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with vita rays."

A nurse injected something into Steve's right arm, and he blew air out of his mouth in a pained expression.

One of the men sitting down in a chair next to Carrie asked, "Is that the serum?"

Carrie shook her head. "Penicillin."

The nurses placed pads with shallow needles on Steve's upper arm and torso. After that, they inserted vials of blue liquid into the slots: the serum. When they finished, they gave a signal to Howard Stark, who hit a button.

The pod began to rise as nurses scurried away, handing out sunglasses to everyone downstairs. The pod continued to rise until it stayed in a vertical position, and the sides began to close.

Carrie stepped forward, one step close to the glass. Her arms were crossed in thought. Agent Carter joined her.

Below, Stark began rotating a valve, slowly, tediously.

_So that controls the amount of vita rays._ Carrie mused silently.

As Steve was exposed to more vita rays, the inside of the pod began to glow, the light seeping through cracks and showing through the small window at the top of the pod. When the light became blinding, Steve began to scream.

Carrie and Peggy rushed out of the spectators' area, Peggy shoving Carrie out of the way, and into the archway.

"Shut it down!" Peggy yelled, desperate to be heard over the mechanical whine and Steve's screams.

Erskine glanced back and forth between a Howard Stark, waiting for the next command, and Agent Peggy Carter.

"Shut it down Mr. Stark," Erskine gave in.

"No!" Carrie spun towards the source of the outburst: the pod. Steve. "No, don't! I can do this!"

Erskine met Carrie's eyes, and she nodded. Erskine turned to Howard. "Continue, Mr. Stark."

Howard nodded and continued to further rotate the valve. The harsh light emanating from the pod grew ever brighter, until sparks flew from the controls and the light fixtures above. With the lights out, the back-up generator kicked in. They flickered until they remained steady.

Someone opened the pod, and steam billowed out of it. Once it cleared, Carrie's heart crawled into her throat. She didn't recognize the man who stepped out of the pod: tanned, toned muscles, tousled blonde hair; not the scrawny, pasty stick of a boy.

"How do you feel?" Agent Carter asked Steve.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and panting, he replied, "Taller."

"You look taller."

Carrie, who had stayed on the stairs, met Steve's eyes and grinned broadly, proud of her little brother.

Her smile faded when something reflective in the spectators' area caught her eye. At the same time, one of the men invited to watch the procedure a lighter with him, the lid flipped open.

What the—

Carrie never got to finish her thought.

Instinctively, Carrie dove to the ground, whipping her pistol out of her messenger bag. She saw someone dash past her, holding the last vial of serum. She got up, sprinting through the hallways.

Many M.P. were shot, with nurses tending to their wounds. Seeing as they were covered, Carrie pushed on.

"Hey Carrie."

She turned towards the sources of the voice. It was Steve, who had caught up to Carrie in mere heartbeats, and was quickly outpacing her. The old Steve would've been on his knees in a coughing fit yards ago.

Carrie was impressed.

"There's a fork in the hallway." He said. "I go left, you got right."

"Roger that."  
When they split up, Carrie was stuck in a dark room, probably disconnected from the back up generator. She didn't have a light on her, not even a match.

Suddenly, the light's came on. In a moment of panic, Carrie flinched and felt a pinch in her neck. She knew she had been injected with something as a young man with a German accent whispered in her ear.

"America's greatest strength has its weak points. You will fall, America with it." He took out the needle, and slammed the butt of his gun into the back of Carrie's head. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Hail Hydra."

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**I am kind of losing steam for this story, I have to admit, but I'll try to update this whenever I can, even with all the social studies homework I get. (Not joking. According to my teacher we are never going to NOT have homework there. It's ridiculous.)**

**BUT as I'm going through my Pokemon and Rise of the Guardians and occasional lingering Power Rangers phase, keep your eyes peeled posted chapters of those stories and many others as I CAN'T WAIT TO FINISH ADKoS TO POST THE DARN STORIES. RotG kicked my muse into overdrive.**

**And I want to thank each and every one of you for the phenomenal support with this story. My new goal is to reach between 15-20 reviews for this story. **

**And you can find the url to my ask and** **roleplay tumblr where you guys can hang out with Colby and Bryan there. As my other OC stories come out, THEIR rp tumblrs will (hopefully) come out too!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter came out a bit rushed. Sorry if its not the usual quality.**

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Chapter 5

Carrie's head throbbed, but what worried her even more was the stinging sensation that had lingered in her neck. She remembered she had been injected with something: probably a toxin, probably deadly.

Carrie groaned, trying to prop herself up on her arms. They shook, sending waves of pain throughout her body. She allowed herself to collapse back on the bed with a grunt.

As the curtain around her cot was pulled back, Steve and Peggy stepped in to stand beside her.

"How long was I out?" Carrie hoped her words didn't come out too rushed.

"Approximately three hours," the agent had answered. "The toxin that had injected into your system sped up the cancer cells' progress."

Carrie tried not to let her distress show, and she tried not to let her eyes wander to Steve. She had lied to Steve. She had lied to _Bucky_, saying that even with all those trips to the hospital, was okay.

"_But,"_ Peggy interrupted her thoughts before Carrie could sulk any further. "We were able to concoct an antidote using some of Steve's blood. The serum won't fully activate without vita rays, but it should slow down the progress of the cancer, and eventually eject it out of your system, for lack of a better word."

"Will it repair the damage?" Carrie dared to ask, because she couldn't stand not knowing the answer to _that_ question.

"It's possible."

"Good," Carrie pushed herself out of bed, seeing the looks on her visitors' faces. "Don't look at me like that. We've got a war to win."

She followed Steve and Peggy to a room where Colonel Phillips was waiting for them. A black submarine with a sleek black design was partially submerged in a shallow pool, where Howard Star was examining the craft.

"Its unlike any technology I've ever seen," Stark remarked.

Carrie pointed to a symbol, an insignia of a skull with tentacles, on the side of the submarine. "Hydra."

Peggy nodded. "The Nazi's deep science division, much like the SSR is to the Allied forces," she explained to Steve. "It's led by Johann Schmidt, but he has much bigger ambitions."

"Hydra's practically a cult," Colonel Phillips spat." They worship Schmidt, they think he's invincible."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Senator Brandt demanded.

"Spoke to the president this morning," Colonel Phillips grunted. "As of today, the SSR is being re-tasked."

"Colonel?" Agent Carter didn't even bother to mask her surprise, and frankly, neither did Carrie. She tried to be as blatant about that as possible.

"We're taking the fight to Hydra. Pack your bags, Agent Carter. You too, Stark. You're flying to London tonight. Medic Christensen, you're being stationed with the one-oh-seventh."

"Yes sir," she responded.

"Sir," Steve interjected. "If you're going after Schmidt, I want in."

"You're an experiment," Phillips said tersely. "You're going to Alamogordo."

"The serum worked," Steve protested, sounding feebler with each passing second.

"I asked for an army and all I got was you. _You_ are not enough."

Three months passed since Carrie's new position in Rosano. Two and a half months passed since the one-oh-seventh marched against Schmidt. Two-hundred men against Hydra's technology, and less than fifty returned. Two and a half months since Carrie last saw Bucky.

She worked herself day and night, vowing she wouldn't stop, and eventually Colonel Phillips himself ordered her to get two hours of extra rest each day, rotating in other medics.

Carrie wouldn't rest.

She continued her efforts, knowing that they needed every man they had on the battlefield. She wouldn't even let herself see the war bonds show, even though she knew Steve would be performing.

Eventually, Medic Walsh, a short man standing at 5'3'', only a few inches taller than Carrie, took her position in their rotation. He had black hair and gray eyes, eyes that were mourning as he handed Carrie another casualty report.

They were all mourning.

She made her way to Colonel Phillip's tent, where he was busy signing a never-ending pile of condolence letters to the friends and families of fallen warriors. She cleared her throat and handed Phillips the list of names as Steve marched into the tent, a beige trench coat wrapped around his Captain America costume. Trotting in behind him was Agent Carter.

"Colonel Phillips?" He asked.

"Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan," the aged military officer grumbled. "And what is your plan for today?"

"I need the casualty list for Rosano," Steve said, somewhere between begging and demanding.

"You don't get to give me orders, son."

"I just need one name," Steve insisted. "Sergeant James Barnes from the one-oh-seventh."

"He's MIA." Carrie blurted. "His name wasn't on the casualty list."

Phillips glared at Carrie through the corner of his eye, even as he was continuously signing the death notices. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Medic Christensen?"

Carrie shook her head. "No, sir. "My shift just ended."

"Oh, _now_ you start following orders." Colonel Phillips shifted out of his chair, shuffling to the finished letters on the other desk. "I've signed more of these letters than I would care to count, but the name does sound familiar, I'm sorry."

"What about the others? Steve's voice quickened with desperation. "Are you planning a rescue mission?"  
"Yeah! It's called winning the war."

"But it you know where they are, why not —"

"They're thirty miles behind the line," Phillips snapped, giving Steve a heavy glare. "Though the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more than we'd save. But I don't expect you to know that, because you're a chorus girl."

The hurt was clear on Steve's face. "I think I understand just fine."

"Then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you've got some place to be in thirty minutes."

Phillips walked away.

Carrie followed Steve's determined gaze. It fell on the map showing Schmidt's base.

"Yes sir," Steve muttered. "I do."

Steve strode out of the command tent. Carrie knew _exactly_ where he was going, and so did Agent Carter. The Star Spangled Man had a plan, a purpose.

And so did Carrie.

"Steve, wait!" Carrie called as he climbed into a Jeep. He wore worn out leather fatigues over his costume, a helmet with an "A" displayed boldly on the forehead, and his shield was slung over his back.

"Here to stop me?" Steve asked.

Carrie snorted. "No way. I'm going with you."

With that, she dug around the trunk, slung a supply bag/medical kit over her shoulder, and clipped a pistol holster across her waist. Uncovering a tarp at the bottom revealed twin pistols, grenades, and other pieces of equipment. She tossed a gun to Steve, keeping one for herself.

"What do you plan to do?" A British voice inquired. "Walk to Austria?"

"If that's what it takes." Steve stated.

"You heard the colonel; your friend is most likely dead. There's no sense in dragging another one."

Carrie scoffed. "You don't know that."

"Even so, he's devising a strategy to take—"

"By the time he's done that, it could be too late!" Steve responded, almost yelling. "Bucky and Carrie had my back for years. It's time for me to return to favor." He climbed into the driver's side of the Jeep. "You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?"

Peggy didn't hesitate. "Every word."

"Then you've gotta let us go."

Peggy smiled. "I can do more than just that."

* * *

**Sorry if I had you guys worried about Carrie there! But I can't have her die before confessing her love to Bucky ehehe. Even if I am terrible at writing romance.**

**Anyway, Colby and Bryan are getting lonely on their tumblr. Please go send them some asks! The URL is found towards the top of my profile!**

**If you're a fan of Rise of the Guardians, keep your eyes peeled for Believe, my Rise of the Guardians fanfic!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And now, for a haiku by you beloved author...**

**I am so sorry**

**For not updating for so long**

**Please don't throw stuff hard.**

**...**

**But I actually have a legitmate excuse. I lost my first flash drive and forgot to back up the rest to my laptop's hardrive. I get a second, and it just _disappears_ off my lanyard. This is my third one. Let's hope for the best.**

* * *

Chapter 6

Two hours later, Peggy, Steve, and Carrie were sitting in the back of a plane, with Stark at the controls. Carrie wasn't sure whether this was supposed to be reassuring or worrisome.

Agent Carter and Steve were conversing, while Carrie was awkwardly studying a map showing the overhead layout of Schmidt's base. She couldn't help but glance up at the two, a smile gracing her lips.

"You know," Steve said. "You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble back at the lab."

Agent Carter scoffed. "And you won't?"

"Where we're going, if anybody yells at me, I can just shoot them."

"They will undoubtedly shoot back." Agent Carter pointed out.

"Well, let's hope it's good for something." Carrie muttered.

"Agent Carter," Stark called from the controls. "If we're not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue."

Carrie's attention returned to the flustered agent, who was looking awkwardly at Steve, who's eye widened to the size of quarters just by being in the presence of such a brazen comment. Carrie couldn't help but smile herself.

"Stark is the best civilian pilot I've ever seen." Agent Carter continued, ignoring the question. "He's mad enough to brave this airspace. We're lucky to have him."

Steve was still trading glances between the cockpit and Agent Carter. "So are you—do you—fondue?"

_Wait_. Fondue? Carrie shook her head. As much as Carrie supported Steve's vow to wait for the "right partner," she couldn't help but think that the poor guy need to get out more often.

Carrie was jolted out of her thoughts as an explosion rocked the plane. Carrie and Agent Carter gripped the cushion of their seats, while Steve sprang up, sliding open a door and shrugging on a parachute.

Wide-eyed, Carrie stared out the window behind her. "We're jumping?"

"Yep," Steve tossed a parachute to her, which she caught with mild difficulty.

Shrugging it on, Carrie clipped the straps around her hips. "I swear to God, Steve, if I get shot at—or if my parachute fails—"

Steve chuckled, glancing over her shoulder, out the open door. "I'll be right behind you. Like always."

Agent Carter grabbed both Carrie and Steve by the shoulder, attempting to shove them back to the bench. She had more success with the former, rather than the super-soldier.

"Get back here!" Agent Carter exclaimed frantically. "We're taking you all the way in!"

Steve shrugged her hand off, adamant. "As soon as you're free, turn this thing and get the hell outta here!"

"You can't give me orders!"

"The hell I can!" He fired back, pushing Carrie out the door. "I'm a captain!"

During the earlier exchange between Steve and Agent Carter, Carrie had slipped on a pair of black goggles. She fumbled with them around her neck, before finally securing them over her eyes. She was grateful too; the cold air slammed into her face like sheets of ice.

With the wind rushing past her ears, she almost missed Steve yell, "Deploy!"

Quickly, Carrie found the string and pulled. She was jerked upwards suddenly, and floated the rest of the way down. Once she hit the ground, she rolled into a crouch and disposed of her parachute.

Steve managed to land next to her not too long afterwards, but it had almost escaped her attention, for a giant fortress loomed before them. Its dark background blended with the night, but what gave it away were the scattered azure lights; they didn't seem like anything Carrie had ever seen, despite her time on the field.

She and Steve shared a glance, and silently trekked to the stronghold.

Once the fortress came into view in its entirety, Carrie saw the line of transports moving through a massive open doorway, like a tunnel. The line of vehicles chugged past them, and the duo leaped into the back of the last one.

The small group of Hydra soldiers sitting in the canvas-covered can ceased their conversation, eight heads turning simultaneously.

"Hey fellas," Carrie murmured.

Steve quickly took out the troops in a flurry of punches, with Carrie hanging back. They advanced that way: Steve taking out the majority of the soldiers, and Carrie disabling any that got away.

They felt the van come to a stop. Beyond the canvas covering, there was chattering in German. After a few seconds, there was silence. The drivers.

The canvas door snapped open, and Carrie distinguished the outlines of two HYDRA soldiers from an almost matching background.

Before she could even raise her pistol, Steve smashed the edge of his shield into the neck of one, and drove his fist into the solar plexus of the other. Both crumbled to the ground, unmoving.

Steve and Carrie jumped out the back, dashing to a plated door at their three o'clock. It was locked, and Steve swiftly sliced though it with his shield.

Carrie pulled open the door, and springing silently down the corridor. What surprised her was the lack of security; surely the division that devised most of the weapons for the Nazi forces would be heavily fortified _and _guarded. They did come across a single guard, which Carrie took care of. His gun glittered on the metal great floor, earning the attention of the prisoners below.

Carrie's eyes widened from the sheer number of captives already in cells, and there were more coming in. There were very few guards per line of prisoners, and at this point, Carrie wasn't sure whether she was surprised or not.

Once the prisoners had been forced into the cells, Steve and Carrie let loose a fury of bullets and fists; Steve taking out the clusters, and Carrie sniping out the remainders.

Carrie vaulted though the giant fan in the wall; the blades rotated slower than half-frozen molasses. Landing on her feet, she recognized a few of the soldiers. She walked over to Steve's side, who was _about_ to yank the barred door off its hinges.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Demanded a soldier, obviously of African descent. Briefly, Carrie frowned in concentration, trying to place a name to the face. _Gabe Jones_.

"I'm . . ." Steve paused, looking unsure. "Captain America." Steve grasped the barred door of the cell, and gave it a firm tank. The lock broke, and the door loosely on its hinges. "Get out fast and give 'em hell. We'll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else we find."

"We?" A British voice inquired.

Carrie pulled her goggles up to her hair line, keeping her bangs out of her face. She cleared her throat. The soldier winced, startled, but regained his composure when he saw the source of the voice.

"Medic Christensen."

"Falsworth." She glanced over her shoulder, following Steve out. The super-soldier had opened any other cell doors he had come across.

"Wait!" Jones called, amidst the sea of freed soldiers. "You guys know what you're doing?"

"Yeah," Steve answered, readying his shield. "I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times."

Carrie smiled, knowing he referred to his war bonds show. "I'm just following his lead."

Before they exited the prison hold, Carrie asked a few soldiers if they had seen anyone singled out. A few replied an affirmative, but they didn't know where the soldier was taken.

Carrie thanked the soldiers, and passed the information to Steve.

They searched around, and saw a sign that probably translated into, "Keep Out, Authorized Personnel Only." Something along those lines.

Steve and Carrie shared a glance, and busted it open.

It revealed a hallway, dimly lit only by one room. At the end, an old, pudgy looking man was finely dressed, and caught sight of the duo as they entered. Quickly, he rushed away as an alarm sounded.

Steve and Carrie let him go.

Stepping a little closer to the lit room, Carrie heard disoriented moaning: "James . . . Buchanan . . . Barnes . . ."

Carrie's eyes widened and she glanced back at Steve. Running inside the room, Carrie noted that it was like an experimental laboratory, with Bucky Barnes strapped to the table in the center.

Carrie covered her mouth briefly, absorbing the shock. She and Steve rushed to the table, hurrying to unstrap the restraints.

"Bucky!" Steve whisper-yelled, shaking the table.

Bucky's eyes were glazed over, and had difficulty focusing on the source of the voice.

"S—Steve?" He mumbled. He head rolled limply to face Carrie. His eyes were bright. "Carrie?"

"C'mon," Steve said, gently pulling his best friend up. "We're breaking you out of here.

Bucky struggled to stand, stumbling to his feet. When he began to tip backwards, Carrie caught him under the arms, with a small "Oof."

Carrie let of Bucky and steadied him with an arm. "Can you walk?"

Bucky swallowed. "Yeah."

"Then we better get a move on." Steve said, walking briskly out of the lab.

Carrie and Bucky followed, Carrie having to support him whenever he started tipping over too far to one side.

"What happened to you?" Bucky asked, gesturing to Steve. "I thought y you were smaller."

"I joined the army!" Steve said hurriedly, glancing from side to side.

"Did it hurt?"

"A little."

"Is it permanent?"

"So far!"

Once Bucky was able to steady himself into a jog, Carrie pulled out her pistol. They didn't go back the way they came, as they were running on a raised platform. Below them was factory of some sort, but Carrie wasn't able to distinguish _what_ it was for. There was a rickety little metal bridge, but Steve held out his fist, the back facing Bucky and Carrie. _Stop._

On the other side, the pudgy old coot Carrie saw in the testing lab hallway was scooting behind a man in black robes. Johann Schmidt.

Ushering his two comrades behind him, Steve stepped forward on the catwalk cautiously, while Schmidt strode on, unconcerned.

"Captain America!" Schmidt called. "How exciting!" I'm a great fan of our films. So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all." Schmidt tilted his head to the side. "Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive.

Bringing his fist up, Steve socked Schmidt across the jaw, and Carrie couldn't help but smile. "You got no idea."

"Haven't I?" Schmidt roared, moving to give Steve a generous right hook Steve raised his shield, and stumbled back a few steps; Schmidt (or rather, his _fist_) left a nasty impression on the brass. Steve's pistol skittered off the catwalk.

As Steve shifted so he completely blocked Schmidt from coming any farther, Bucky stepped back, tugging on Carrie's arm, pulling her back.

Carrie spotted the squat, pudgy man working the controls. The center of the catwalk began to retract, and Steve retreated to the safety of the platform's railing.

Schmidt touched his cheek where it seemed to be sagging. He clawed his fingers on the farthest corner of his jawline. "No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see_ I_ was his greatest success!"

Subconsciously, Carrie felt the corner of her nose and mouth pull downwards, revolted.

With one hand, Schmidt _peeled off his face_, revealed one that was like raw, pulsing muscle. His nose was as cavity. All in all, Schmidt was a _red skull_.

_Oh._ Carrie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

Bucky gulped. "You don't have one of those, do you?"

"You are deluded, Captain." Schmidt continued. "You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!"

"Then how come you're running?" Steve called back, seconds before Schmidt disappeared in an elevator.

Carrie winced as below their platform, tanks of God-knows-what exploded. With the catwalk gone, their only way of getting across was a rickety support girder.

"Go!" Steve urged, helping a shaky Bucky over the railing. Quickly, Carrie followed suit, in case the guy got a dizzy spell, of course.

Explosions shook the ground, and the air was humming with a roar. Carrie could feel the heat through her jacket, vibrations reverberating through the soles of her combat boots.

With a small hop, Bucky cleared the girder, climbing over the railing.

Carrie wasn't so lucky.

With one last roar, the girder gave, taking Carrie with it. She almost couldn't process what happened, not even crying out as whatever solid surface that was beneath her feet was yanked away.

Her hands were raised well above her head, flailing, grasping for something, _anything,_ a chance—

She yelped as she felt a shock travel down her left arm, and for a moment, she thought her arm was yanked out of its socket. She looked up.

It was Bucky, both of his calloused hands crushing Carrie's. She almost sobbed from relief.

His teeth were grit. "You are _not_ dying on me. You are getting away from me that easily."

After he pulled her up to safety, Carrie gave him a shaky, perhaps manic grin from the sheer notion that she was _alive_.

"That'd be too easy." She returned.

They were safe.

Steve wasn't.

"There's gotta be a rope or something!" Bucky yelled.

Steve shook his head. "There isn't! Just—just go and get out of here!"

"_Not without you!"_ Bucky shrieked, hysterical. "Just jump!"

Steve hesitated.

"Now or never Steve," Carrie added. "This place is about to blow!"

Steve took a deep breath, took a running start, and leapt across the chasm. A fireball flew upward, consuming him in midair.

Carrie held her breath, praying. She didn't notice she had clutched Bucky's hand with a vice grip until Steve emerged from the inferno, (relatively) unscathed. She quickly snatched her hand back running her fingers though her bangs. She hoped the heat would conceal her furious blush.

As soon as Steve landed lightly on his feet, the trio sprinted down the stairs. No words were exchanged, but they read each other like books. They tried to outrun the fiery death racing behind them miraculously remembering how to get out of that level.

Finding a path out of the base was easy; they followed the trail of scorch marks and dead HYDRA peons that littered the ground.

They made it out, bursting into the forest's cover seconds before the base disintegrated in a ball of fire.

Everyone was breathing heavily, even Steve, who was in peak physical energy y. Carrie could feel her strength waning as her adrenaline rush ended.

There were more men than Carrie could bother to count, and a few of them were in tanks, no doubt stolen from the base.

"So," Carrie said. "I guess we're walking back?"

* * *

**So yeah. My new goal for reviews is now between 22-25. Somewhere in that range. **

**Belinda: What she means is to review. **

**What are you doing here?!**

**Belinda: Advertising your Rise of the Guardians fanfic, Believe for you.**

**My what? Oh yeah, that. Its finally up. And its on its second chapter. I'd really like it if you guys could show Believe maybe a fraction of the love you show for ADKoS? **


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